


Music for the neck downwards

by liionne



Series: A thousand ways to meet [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:41:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liionne/pseuds/liionne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim was totally pumped. He was always like this, ‘pre-gig’, when he’d downed a can of redbull and was bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of a mirror. He tugged the tight black t-shirt down his chest when he finished bouncing, ran a hand through his (perfectly styled) hair, and turned to grin at his band mates. “You ready?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jim was totally pumped. He was always like this, ‘pre-gig’, when he’d downed a can of redbull and was bouncing on the balls of his feet in front of a mirror. He tugged the tight black t-shirt down his chest when he finished bouncing, ran a hand through his (perfectly styled) hair, and turned to grin at his band mates. “You ready?”

Sulu was flicking through a magazine, Carol was chewing on a carrot stick, and Chekov was looking over the set list. They did not, under any circumstances, look ready.

“Totally ready.” Sulu nodded, his voice deadpan as he turned he page of his magazine over. He raised his eyebrows at what he saw.

“Born ready.” Carol agreed, her tone slightly lighter, speaking only after she’d swallowed.

“I think I’m ready.” Chekov murmured, looking up from the set list with a nervous grin.

Jim squinted at them all. “You guys are a bunch of wet blankets, y’know that?”

“I know.” Sulu nodded again. He didn’t care.

Jim set his hands on his hips. “I’m going to trade you all in for hot, sexy young girls in tight t-shirts who are actually _excited_ about this gig and-”

“You’ll be doing no such thing.”

Four pairs of eyes flicked to Spock, their manager. It was pretty rare for him to make an appearance; he had a Uhura running the day to day shift. He was the principal, and she was the teacher. It just meant that this gig was a big’un, and they had to do it right.

“Perhaps I shall, as you put it, trade you in for someone who can be better behaved.” Spock raised an eyebrow.

Jim shot him a wicked grin. “Spock, good to see you.”

“You will not be seeing me for long, unfortunately.” he said, clasping his hands behind his back. “You’re needed on stage now.”

Everyone stood, the white sheet shaking a little as Chekov held it aloft. He put his drumsticks in the back pocket of his jeans, and stood next to Sulu, who pocketed his favourite pick. Carol finished her little bag of carrot sticks before falling into line with the rest of them. Jim grabbed his water bottle, pushed to the front of their group, winked to Uhura, and set off along the white-walled corridor.

There was just one door separating the band and the stage, and just a thin metal barrier separating the stage and the audience, standing room only, pressed up as close as they could be to the stage. They were each fitted with their ear piece before Uhura opened the door for them, and the screaming began.

They collected their instruments, looked to Jim, and when he gave the nod, they began to play.

Their cover of Teenage Dirtbag was legendary. Jim’s ears were already beginning to ring with the loud crash of the drums behind him, the wailing of his guitar as he rocked out the solo, and the screaming of the crowd in front of him. With Carol on keyboard to his right, Sulu on bass to his left, and Chekov on drums behind him, he felt ridiculously powerful.

He interrupted the cheers and applause to grin, “Thank you! Thank you. We’re _Enterprise_ , and this is _Enlighten Me Again_.”

He’d said no more than twenty words, and yet the crowd were going wild. Whether it was their music, their raw talent, or the way Jim’s eyes were shining in the bright white artificial stage lighting he didn’t know. But he _loved_ it, and that was all that mattered.

Carol’s introduction was long enough for Jim’s mind to wander, an almost breathless grin on his face, when he caught sight of the bartender at the back of the club. The club wasn’t too big, so he could see the man well enough to know that he was hot. _Very_ hot. Tall and tan with dark hair and even darker eyes and biceps that were threatening to break through that plaid shirt he was wearing, unbuttoned, revealing a tight grey t-shirt underneath.

Jim almost missed his queue.

His eyes, normally flicking from girl to girl in front of him, winking every so often at someone he was most likely going to give an ‘all access pass’ to (in more ways than one), were now focused on that bartender. Every so often he would watch the performance, and Jim would look away, drop his gaze to grin at the front row, but he was pretty sure that the guy knew he was watching him.

They had ten songs in their set, seeing as they were headlining and everything, and Jim spent the entire time staring at that bartender like he was about to disappear. He nearly missed his queue five times, was close to playing the wrong chord in the middle of a song, and almost even forgot the words to their cover of _I Like You So Much Better When You’re Naked_ when that fine piece of ass (Jim had yet to see his ass, but he was assuming it was great) looked up at him, smirked, and then looked away again.

At the end of the performance, he thanked the crowd, Chekov threw his drum sticks into the audience, and they left.

“What the hell was that?” Carol demanded, her hands on her hips.

Jim blinked, running a hand through his hair. He was grossly sweaty, a mixture of lights and exertion and adrenaline. “What was what?”

Uhura threw him a towel and a t-shirt, and he shot a grin at her, pulling his shirt over his head and wiping himself down.

“You know exactly what I mean, Kirk.” Carol snapped.

“You fucked up, dude.” Sulu said, grabbing a beer from the fridge.

“I did not!” Jim cried, pulling the clean, dark t-shirt over his head.

Chekov bit his lower lip. “You nearly did.”

“I did not!” Jim repeated. He knew fine well that he’d nearly screwed up a dozen times, but his mind was elsewhere. Behind that bar, peering at that mighty fine, absolutely astounding… Jesus, he didn’t even no what to call him. “Alright,” He allowed. “Maybe I was a little distracted.”

“A little?” Carol raised an eyebrow.

“A little.” he repeated in agreement. He grabbed a sharpie and stuck it in his pocket. “I’m gonna go and get a drink from the bar.”

“I can’t allow you to do that.” Uhura crossed her arms over her chest and gave Jim her best ‘don’t even think about it’ look.

“Aw, c’mon Uhura,” In return, Jim gave her his best ‘I’m gonna do the thing whether you tell me to do the thing or not’ look. “You’re the one who’s always saying we need good relations with fans.”

“In controlled and organised environments.” She added for him, seeing as he had apparently missed that out.

“Hey,” Jim raised a finger. “The best way to meet fans is in their own environment. And anyway, it was Chekov who let all the girls come up to his hotel room the other night-”

The horrified gasp from Uhura as Chekov flushed scarlet and yelled, “You promised you wouldn’t tell!” gave Jim enough time to duck around her and jog to the door at the other end of the corridor that opened out into the bar.

He wasn’t going to meet fans, admittedly. He was going to meet that bartender, and hopefully get his number, and maybe even taken him because _damn_ he was beautiful. Jim was most definitely going to tap that. He’d make it his mission in life to tap that.

It took him a while to get to the bar itself. The club was still packed with fans hoping for an appearance and everyone wanted a photo and a hug with the infamous Jim Kirk. He signed enough posters and boobs to make his wrist hurt, and he smiled so much into camera lenses that his cheeks were aching, but he didn’t mind. Rather, he loved it. Not just the positive attention, which he’d been denied so much as a child, but the happy smiles of fans who felt so close to the guy they idolised.

When he did reach the bar, the bartender raised an eyebrow at him. “What’ll it be?” He asked. There was a soft accent to his voice, soft but most definitely noticeable, as if it had once been strong but straying from home and trampled it just a little. It took Jim a while to answer, as he analysed the accent, and decided, eventually, that it was Southern.

“Just a beer, please.” He asked.

The guy reached for a bottle from the fridge, but still had time to question Jim’s drink of choice. “Does the resident rock star not want something a bit more glamorous?” His tone dripped with sarcasm, and Jim would have been offended if he hadn’t looked so damn gorgeous whilst he’d said it.

“I’m a man of simple tastes.” Jim returned, smirking a little. The other guy snorted.

Jim caught sigh of the tattoo on his arm as he closed the fridge door; it had been hidden by the short sleeve of his t-shirt, but now he could see it. It was a ‘D’, drawn from bones. Bones. Jim liked it.

“Nice tattoo.” He complimented.

Bones stiffened. “Thanks.” He said, before shutting the fridge and leaving the drink on the bench. He pulled his sleeve down just a little, and went to the other end of the bar to serve someone else.

Jim didn’t know what he’d said, but he wondered if it was something do with that tattoo. He decided not to bring it up again.

“Ah.”

The soft sound of understanding came from behind him. Carol took a seat at the bar, folding her arms onto it. “Now I see why you were so distracted.” She grinned a little at him, eyeing the bartender with sultry blue eyes.

“I call dibs.” Jim said, taking a sip of the beer.

Carol held her hands up. “I wasn’t going to try anything,” She said. Jim believed her.

“What’ll it be?” Bones asked when he saw the new customer.

“Mojito, please.” Carol ordered. His lips turned up in a smirk.

“Fancy.” He commented her, as he poured the drink.

“I’m a classy lady.” She was flirting without even knowing it and it was pissing Jim off.

“Carol, don’t you have somewhere to be?” He asked, pointedly raising an eyebrow at her.

“Not that I know of.” She answered, giving Jim a smirk. She spoke loud enough for Bones to overhear. “I’m totally free.”

Jim scowled at her, and she just gave a soft chuckle, taking a sip of her drink.

As the night wound on Jim found he was having no luck with that bartender. All of his well mannered flirting went amiss, or was dismissed by the bartender before he could even get the words out. And it didn’t help that Carol was being a total cockblock, laughing at his flirting and criticising him constantly. Jim had just about given up, when Carol received a tap on the shoulder, and some guy placed his hands on her hips. He was drunk, and he was huge, and he was trying to shove his tongue down her throat.

She tried to push him off, and even though she was Carol Marcus, Badass Extraordinaire, she couldn’t budge him.

So Jim smashed a bottle over his head.

And really, that was where the night disintegrated.  
The guy held Jim against the bar, one hand balled in his shirt, holding him against the polished wood, and punched him in the jaw with the other. He pulled him up, and Jim managed to slam his fist into his nose, but it was futile. The guy just punched him in the stomach and slammed him into the table.

Jim was pretty sure he was about to pass out when the blows stopped coming and there was a loud, harsh bark of, “Enough!” followed by a demand of “You, outside, now. And take your friends with you.”

And then there was his bartender, pulling him up and letting him lean against him, using one arm to hold him up. “Y’alright?”

“You can shout really loud.” Jim told him, words slurring a little as he gave Bones a bloody grin.

He rolled his eyes, muttered, “Unbelievable.” and dragged Jim off to a spot in the corner.

“It was stupid of you.” Carol told him, as Bones dug around behind the bar for a First Aid kit.

“I am stupid.” Jim countered.

“I had it.” She continued, ignoring him.

“Did you really?” Jim raised a sceptical eyebrow.

“Look at me,” Bones ordered, interrupting their little argument, turning Jim’s face gently towards him by putting a finger under his chin. He used an antiseptic wipe to clean the blood from his cuts before rubbing something onto them, gently massaging the balm into his skin with his thumb. He took a hold of his hand, cleaning the blood from his knuckles and rubbing the balm into the exposed flesh. “You’re lucky you didn’t break a finger.” He told him, looking up at him disapprovingly.

Jim met hazel eyes and almost melted. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” He told him.

“I don’t doubt it.” Bones raised an eyebrow.

“You’re so stupid.” Carol grimaced at Jim.

“He may be stupid,” Bones agreed, although he never took his eyes from Jim. “But at least he’s chivalrous.”

“We can’t all be Southern Gentlemen.” Jim countered carefully, raising an eyebrow. The corner of Bones’ lips turned up in a smirk he was trying to suppress, and then he stood, leaving Jim to look up at him.

“You can have a free drink for that one, I think.” Bones nodded, moving behind the bar. Carol took seat beside Jim, her own drink now forgotten.

Bones handed him another beer, and Jim smiled. “Where’d you learn to do that, then?” He asked.

“Do what?” Bones asked.

“Patch me up.” Jim ran a finger along the base of the bottle.

“My dad was a doctor.” Bones shrugged. Jim had a small moment of realisation, remembering the tattoo from before.

“A sawbones.” He murmured.

Bones raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Jim remembered the tattoo, the ‘D‘ made from Bones, and he also remembered the wearer‘s reaction to him mentioning it. So he decided to leave it. “Well I would thank you, but I don’t even know your name.” He said, turning on the charm, slipping back into his flirting.

Carol rolled her eyes, but Bones gave him a smirk. “Leonard.”

“Well thank you, Leonard.” Jim tilted the neck of his bottle towards him before tipping it to his lips. “How about a number to go with the name?”

“Oh, kid,” Leonard chuckled. “I’m way too old for you.”

“Age is just a number.” Jim smirked.

Leonard chuckled, but he didn’t offer him his phone number. Out of the corner of her eye, Carol saw Spock looking a little green, Uhura informing him on the bar brawl Jim had just been caught in. He remained as stoic as ever, though, and began to make his way over to Jim.

“Spock’s coming, better wrap this up.” She found her mojito and knocked the rest of it back.

“Shit.” Jim muttered. He’d forgotten about Spock. He was going to be in a whole heap of shit now. “Hey Leonard,” Jim called of him. He had turned his back to them to clean a few glasses. He turned now, and raised an eyebrow. “We’re doing a show, two days time at the Shuttle Club, 9 o’clock, you should come.” The words tumbled from his mouth, as he tried to get his invitation out before Spock could arrive and drag him away.

Leonard gave a small smirk, and nodded. “I’ll see what I can do, kid.”

Jim flashed him a grin, swigged the rest of his beer, and left with Carol. He thought it would be better to go to Spock than have Spock come to him and show him up in front of Leonard the Hot Bartender.

“Problem, Spock?” Jim asked, an arm around Carol’s shoulders.

“Outside please, the two of you. We’re leaving.” Spock said. His tone left no room for argument, and so Jim, like a scolded child, shuffled out of the bar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shuttle gets a taste of Enterprise, and Jim's on a date. Sort of.

Jim didn’t know if Leonard was going to be there or not, but he very well hoped so. It was making him more nervous than excited, and so he couldn’t carry out his usual pre-gig ritual of bouncing up and down for fifteen minutes, downing five redbulls and singing the best lyrics from each song on the set list.

Everyone noticed; Chekov and Sulu and Carol had been in the band since it had began, even if they’d lost a member or two along the way, and Jim’s little niggly rituals never ever changed. Uhura and Spock had only been their manager for so long, but even they knew exactly what Kirk did before he was due up on stage.

“Alright, where’s Jim and what have you done with him?” Sulu squinted at him from across the room.

Jim looked up from his hands, which he’d been staring at for rather a long time. “What?”

Sulu rolled his eyes. “What’s eating you, Jim. We’re due on in ten minutes and you’ve only had two redbulls and you haven’t even _looked_ at the set list-”

“I’m fine.” Jim gave him a smile that was obviously forced and entirely see-through, and Sulu just sighed.

Carol, of course, knew exactly what was wrong. But she seemed to understand the Bro Code - she couldn’t tell, even if she wanted to. Which she totally did.

“Jim, if you’re ill we can cancel.” Uhura told him, her voice gentle and sounding concerned. She might have acted as if she disliked Jim, but she had her moments.

Jim give her the same smile he’d gave Sulu. “I’m fine, really. Just nervous.”

“Nervous? I didn’t know that you knew what that meant.” Chekov chuckled, tapping his drumsticks against his knees.

Jim gave a weak chuckle and finished his third can of redbull. He was starting to feel a buzz, but not nearly close to how he usually felt before going on. He knew he would feel better if his bartender - _Leonard_ , he kept reminding himself - was there, that he might be able to actually get on with the show before throwing himself at his feet, but until he saw those hazel eyes and that little half smirk, there was nothing he could do.

Uhura left the room, and came back a few moments later. “Right. They’re ready for you.”

Jim took a deep breath and stood. Uhura gave him a warm smile, and as they walked down the corridor - lagging greatly behind Chekov and Sulu - Carol put a hand on his arm.

“Jim, he’s going to be there.” She smiled.

“You don’t know that.” Jim muttered.

Carol rolled her eyes. Jim was potentially the most optimistic, happy-go-lucky person she knew, the only person she knew to believe in no-win scenarios, and yet here he was acting like a kid about to perform in the school Nativity. “You’ll see.”

He just shrugged his shoulders and prepared to grin as they went out on stage, picking up instruments and beginning the set.

Jim scanned the crowd, doing his best to wink and grin as best he could, but he couldn’t see his Leonard anywhere. He felt his heart drop, and his smile faltered, and it took Carol taking over a little on vocals to make him realise he was trailing off, his voice running away from him.

Fine. Leonard wasn’t there. He thought Jim was just some dumb kid, too stupid to do anything but sing and play a few chords, only chasing him because he was the first thing he saw. If Leonard wanted to believe that, then fuck him.

 _‘Fuck him’_. Jim wished.

He grinned as the song came to an end; it was forced and it hurt but at least it was there. He made his introductions, introduced the band, and then they were onto their next song, and Jim was giving that fake smile that didn’t reach his eyes and winking at girls on the front row as if nothing was wrong.

He was still looking, though, still scanning the crowd in the hope that maybe he’d missed him, maybe he’d show up.

It was halfway through the set when he saw the doors directly opposite the stage open, and a familiar, dark haired, dark eyed bartender walk in.

Jim’s grin grew as Bones went to take a seat at the bar, ordering himself a drink and turning to watch the performance. Jim tried to look away from him, feeling the smile in his eyes for the first time, but it was hard.

Their set, only seven songs long today seeing as the club had a curfew of 10pm - it was next to a local university and it‘s housing, so it could stay open into the early hours of the morning but bands had to stop at 10 - flew by, and Jim felt a lot better by the end of it than he did at the start. When they finished with a final flourish, Jim grinned to the crowd, thanked them, and left the stage.

“He’s here Carol, did you see him? He came! Right in the middle of _You Could Handle Me_ , too.” Jim chuckled, gleeful and now definitely riding a buzz as he changed his t-shirt over. “I’m going out there, I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Have fun.” She smirked at him, chuckling as he left the room.

Jim practically ran out into the bar. He’d skirted around the edges to get around the fans, not wanting to keep Bones for too long and make him leave. Leonard had turned back to the bar, his shoulders slightly hunched over and his head down as he looked down at the bar.

“And I thought you weren’t going to show.” Jim grinned, as he took a seat beside him.

Bones looked up at him, and gave that little half-smirk that Jim was coming to adore. “But here I am.”

“There you are.” Jim nodded. He ordered a beer, and turned to look at Leonard. Nerves and excitement and sheer happiness bubbled away in his stomach, and he took a sip of the drink to take care of it. “Did you like it?” He jerked a thumb at the stage behind him.

“Mm.” Leonard nodded, taking a sip of his drink. It looked like whisky, but Jim wasn’t sure. “You were a lot less of a cocky prick tonight than you were a few days ago.”

Jim bit back a laugh, his smile betraying him. “That’s because I was pretty much single last time.”

“And you’re not now?” Leonard raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve got my eye on someone.” Jim answered. “Makes it harder to flirt with the fans when there’s only one guy you want.”

“I’m guessing you mean me.”

“You’re smart.”

Jim’s compliment earned him a crooked smile that nearly made him melt, and then Leonard laughed. “What the hell are we doing here, kid?” He asked, still smirking, but his tone suggested that it was a serious question.

“I would say that I was shamelessly flirting and you were just sitting there looking pretty.” Jim smirked, taking a sip of the beer.

“I was serious when I said you were too young for me.” Leonard raised his eyebrows.

“And I was serious when I said that age was just a number.” Jim countered.

Leonard regarded him for a long time, as if wondering what he should say now. It seemed he was trying to discourage Jim from this, from the pursuit he’d taken up, but Jim was so infatuated with him that he wasn’t going to give up so soon.

“I’m divorced.” He said.

“And I’m single.” Jim shrugged.

“I haven’t had a long term relationship since her.”

“I haven’t had a long term relationship - period.”

Leonard looked as if he might say something else, but he didn’t. Instead, he gulped down the last of his drink, and looked at Jim, tilting his head slightly to the side. “And you’re still interested?”

“Absolutely.” Jim gave a firm nod.

Leonard smirked, turning his glass around in his hand. Jim watched the action, fascinated by his wide palm and long fingers that moved around the glass with graceful ease.

And then there were lips on his, and hands on his waist, and it took Jim a moment to respond to Bones trying to get his tongue into his mouth. He pulled him closer, both of them scooting to the very edge of their seats in an attempt to get closer to one another. For a minute that felt like an hour there was nothing but Bones hands on his hips, and his lips against his and his tongue tracing the inner outline of his lip. He was caught up in Bones, in the sight and sound and smell and taste of him, and nothing mattered.

“We should go back to your place.” Bones murmured, close to his ear, his voice almost a growl.

Jim grinned, trying hard to catch his breath. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter chapter, but hey ho. I'll try to make the next one a bit longer. Also, I apologise for spelling mistakes. It's late and I'm too lazy to check this over and I kinda want to just get it up.


End file.
